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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26616001">Waiting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvain/pseuds/sylvain'>sylvain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Kissing, Other, gender neutral reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:41:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26616001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvain/pseuds/sylvain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Your boyfriend returns from patrol.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Leonardo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Raphael (TMNT)/Reader, Turtle of Choice (TMNT)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Waiting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It's cold and it's dark, and from up here the city is a quiet kind of beautiful. But the boys are out later than they said they’d be and you won’t sleep a wink until they’re home. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You worry your lip and with a shrug tuck into the oversized sweatshirt he left behind. It shelters you from the chill and surrounds you with the scent of tea, sweat, and cologne. Your relationship is new, but this is already your favorite scent, when he’s the one wearing it. Tonight, the way it fades into the fabric reminds you he still hasn’t called.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Scanning the ground from the rooftop of your apartment building, you squint against the wind and sigh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a whisper of shadows along the edge of the opposite roof, and you lift binoculars to check it out. But, in an instant, you realize you’re not alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Strong, familiar hands move up your back before gently sliding under your arms. They fold over your ribs and you're enveloped in your boyfriend’s embrace even before he makes a sound.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His stealth thrills you more than it should. But you've never felt as safe as you are when in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You lean back, letting him take the weight of you against his plastron. It’s only been a day since you parted, but time passes slowly whenever he’s gone. As if sensing your thoughts, he nuzzles into your neck. Burrowing into you. The hood of the sweater falls back, exposing you to the chill, but his breath is warm against your skin.  Your anxiety melts away with every brush of his lips. After a lingering kiss to your jaw, he nips at your ear. “You should be asleep.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His mouth moves over your skin and his voice sends a shiver up your spine. Your knees go weak when he purrs.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You blame your light-headedness on exhaustion, trying to hold onto a shred of impatience so you can remind him you were expecting his return hours ago. He's supposed to call if things run late.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he whispers apologies between kisses and you turn to putty in his hands. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a low laugh to hide how tired you are--and how worried you’ve been--you turn in his arms. "You know I love a challenge," you say, but your smile falters when his face comes into view. Renewed concern floods your senses at the sight of the gash below his right eye. You’re reminded why seeing him after patrol is bittersweet. On reflex, you reach up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He winces at your touch and your breath catches in your throat. The curve of his sardonic smile pulls at the fresh wound and your stomach flips when it starts to bleed. For all the confidence you have in his training and skill, you can't deny that it scares you to see him after a fight. Since even before you went from friends to more, every patrol, every cut and bruise, has put your heart in a vice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The other guys’ partners handle this better, you think. Maybe it's because they've been around longer. Or maybe they were numb to violence before getting involved. You can’t imagine getting used to this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With shaky hands, you run your fingers along the underside of his mask.  You’re careful not to press where the fabric is split, dark and wet. “It’ll take a stitch or two to heal,” you think aloud. His father is still teaching you the delicate process. An injury this close to the eye will be tricky.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Under your caress, the bravado of his smile gives way to the gentle expression you fell in love with. He leans into your touch now, despite the pain he must feel. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No big deal." He says, taking your head in his hands. These hands, rough, bandaged, and bruised by his nightly heroism, demonstrate their capacity for soothing touch. The drag of his blunt fingertips over your scalp dissolves your agitation into a contented hum. Your warrior’s gaze is soft when he tells you, "I'm fine."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Your face twists as you prepare to disagree, but he steals your words and your breath with a kiss. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s tender and brief. Too brief. And too chaste. And too careful. Too much like all the kisses you’ve shared before. It leaves you desperate for something more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You part your lips and kiss him deeper. There’s a moment when you think he’ll match your intensity. When you think he needs you as much as you need him. But then you consider the possibility he’ll step away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You won’t let go. You can’t. Not yet. Not when you’ve just gotten him back from the dangers of the night. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Taking him roughly by the strap of leather he wears across his chest, you pull him toward you just in case. He stumbles forward on heavy legs, pliant under your hands. Bringing a hand to your waist, he holds you secure. Your own hands keep a tight grip on his pack. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Your thundering heart aches. But the firm pressure of his hands assures you he isn't going anywhere. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Settled by the promise of his embrace, you break the kiss. You trade unsteady puffs of breath to keep from drowning in the depths of his eyes. Your lips taste like his and when you hear him swallow you want to taste him again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't think I'll ever get used to this,” you admit quietly, petting the rough plates of his plastron. Your fingers catch on a scar above his heart and you cover it with your palm wishing love into the old wound. "The fighting. Knowing you're out there with all the..." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You take a shuddering breath and he nods. You don't need to finish the thought and he doesn't need to remind you that he's come home with worse than a black eye before. Tonight he walked away with barely a scratch. Some nights he and his brothers are lucky to walk away at all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His face falls. Eyes shutter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But you’ve got me,” you say, lifting his gaze with a touch to his chin. “I’ve got you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Your hands return to the leather strap. Your grip on it is insistent and you tug, determined to get him to listen. "You come home to me and I'll be waiting. Just… come home."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes go wide and they shine with disbelief. When he nods this time it's with a tip of his head that draws him near. He rests his forehead on yours and sighs relief. He makes his promises against your lips as your mouths meet again and again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Waiting isn't your strong suit. But you'll always wait for him. </span>
</p>
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